Grimoire: Worrisome Repeats
by Conso Anima
Summary: The Traveler is eons old, but even eternal patience can be driven to depression if it has to run all its existence. What will it take to end the Darkness? The Traveler doesn't know-but its latest chosen do. One-shot from the Traveler's perspective.


Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Kinda obvious. I just have possession of the ideas here, unless they are copied in the games themselves.

* * *

It could remember its beginning, and every single moment of every single step. If it had a body like those of its latest ascended species, then it would've shuddered at the memories that kept it worried.

It wandered the lonesome Void, held aloft by its hopes and dreams of finding a race that could keep it and sustain its hopes and dreams. Of finding a race not held in peril in some desperate corner, of a race that was standing proud and tall and on the cusp of being able to use its knowledge and powers for the great advancements it could offer.

It vibrated just a little more in its last memories-and latest scar. While by no means the largest or worst, it hurt the most. While ephemeral at best, its analogous 'heart' still was deeply pained by the last race. The Eliksni were of such promise, such beauty, such strength of will...but a failure in the end. It knew it didn't have long-the Darkness dogged its every step, from the very beginning, seeking to undo its long-held wont of improving the galaxy for all.

A small, simple callout was all it had left. While by no means the first it followed, it was the most curious. Simple taps of static, small bursts of data likely considered inconsequential by so many...maybe? The entity slowed and paused with a burst of its own powers, turning its metaphorical gaze in the void to a small yellow star.

It shifted again to try to find a better line, and instead calculated it back out. A cone. Very simple, but very...brazen. It remembered few as bold and hopeful as this callout seemed. The voice was obviously chosen to be as non-threatening and peaceable as possible, yet had an odd richness to it that made it pause. The entity gazed around, before a tiny flare eliminated large portions of the cone that it could and it zoomed off towards it. So far away, but at least it could handle waiting.

* * *

Time is largely meaningless to an entity with forever, so instead of swooping in and directly intervening it decides to test that willingness, courage, and intelligence. While the radio waves were simplistic at best, the planet nearby could prove a hurdle. It calibrated its times to that of the system's, and set a goal of time, hoping beyond hope that this race may be able to start the end of its long, long run.

It did not have to wait very long, as a group of people came upon it. It hadn't been idle-scanning the system and its people from afar in its hopes. _Humans. So...interesting._

In what felt like rapid and unfettered progress, it alighted upon the homeworld of the species, and could scarcely conceal its glee as it perused banks of information. A world united and divided. While one of the bloodiest, it had some of the best tales of courage. A race who were made of independent beings, longing for self-sufficiency amidst chaos. Stronger in will than the Eliksni, less dependent than empires, and more creative. Yes. The newly-christened Traveler felt a tremble of hope returning. _These humans will either be my pyre or my salvation._

The Traveler quickly moved around, hopping from celestial bodies to allow its children to expand and grow and _thrive._

* * *

No. No. _No! Not yet! Why?!_ The Traveler's internals screamed and railed at what it felt and saw descending upon it, upon its newest children. The eons-long dread built. The fear. The anticipation. The stench of death. It felt the yawning maw open and roar, decimating many of its children at once. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions. Billions. Unbidden memories of seeing the peoples it had tried to uplift, of seeing its failures one by one by one...

The Traveler could do aught but gape as the Darkness came and began swallowing all its works and progress, scarcely able to even move as despair swept it. A nervous energy built up in it as it nearly felt like weeping and running away, the energy sapping into a warp core as its final measure.

And then a near-infrared laser flared. And another. A large defense satellite on the other side of Earth launched kinetic rods, calculated to attack the incoming hordes. A swarm of missiles, both guided and simple, started to launch. Weapon systems, automated and non, flared and continued to track and slide into firing sequences. Alarms blared, readying and bringing garrisons to alert and weaponize.

Even in the incoming tide, humanity surprised the Traveler. Instead of believing in their assured destruction, they attacked. Instead of laying down and accepting, they began to fight back.

The hope it felt surged as it rerouted its energies and powers, bringing hope and power and Light to bear. Ethereal shields, cannon, and energy sprang up and began to stem the tide as the Traveler rejoiced in the simple ability to fight its own fear. Unlike so many, the humans merely used the additional tools in aid of their own natural abilities. The Darkness recoiled as hours passed and the humans had managed to defend themselves and rally.

Or so it did, until the forces began to distort and break through certain lines. The Hive overran the mass driver firing nuclear warheads at their ships, the Vex broke through Venus' emergency bunkers and trenchworks, the Legion smashed and grabbed land underneath mounds of their dead kin, and the now-Fallen raiders chittered and stealthed their way past multiple batteries leading to Earth.

Once the tide started to turn back to the Darkness again, the Traveler felt the same fear as always. This happened before as well, and never worked out well. The nervous energies began to gather again to its core as feeds and relevant displays began to bear the same truth over and over again.

{RASPUTIN: DO YOU SEEK TO RUN AWAY?}

Startled, the Traveler pinged back at the Warmind. The Warmind's warbled, distorted tinge made it obvious the Warmind was under attack. And yet...the Warmind did not cease to fight. Was it that? Was that the simple answer, that there might never be a chance to have won because it gave up?

{RASPUTIN: I AM NOT ETERNAL, A CUSTODIAN MADE BY HUMANITY. A WARDEN I MUST BE, IF NEEDED. THIS WORLD WILL BECOME YOUR PRISON, I YOUR WARDEN.}

The sheer escalation made the Traveler pause, before it angered. The Traveler, eons-old, decried by some small AI?

{YOU ARE MISTAKEN, FOR THE LIGHT CANNOT BE CAGED.}

{RASPUTIN: TRULY? YOUR WANTON DISPLAY OF HOLDING BACK IS TO BE COMMENDED. HUMANITY NEEDS ME, AND YOU. I FOR THE DARKNESS, YOU FOR THE LIGHT.}

The Traveler's momentary lack of notice crashed four of the largest ships humanity had, and as the wreckage began to cool the Traveler started to notice. Why hadn't it before?

{RASPUTIN: IF YOU SEEK THE SOLACE OF TRAVELING, TRAVELER, THEN KNOW YOU WILL BE BEREFT OF IT. YOU WILL NOT ABANDON **MY** CHARGES!}

Startled, the Traveler noticed the large display of munitions and turrets tracking towards it. As it finally unraveled the riddle, it noticed the deceptive ease at which it had eluded it. If it tired of running, then surely the act of running itself must be the issue, no?

If it tired of losing, then a stand must be made. If it tired of giving the same time and time again with only the promise of another worrisome repeat, then it must give its all. If it was to face its fears, it needed bravery.

If it tired of seeing its dead children mocking it by the trillions, then it must fight. Not what it could spare, but with all of it. Total, like its current children. As munitions rained down and the Traveler absorbed some damage, it turned its gaze not upon the Darkness, but upon every human it could possibly see as it dismantled so much of its old habits in one go.

It reached inside itself, curried as much of its Light as it could, carried the hopes and dreams and power and goals of its own to the surface. In a near-blinding set of Light, the Traveler sent a wave of Light containing all it could at the Darkness. No longer set on protecting itself, it felt the sting of the weapons, but did not care.

What it cared about after all this time was its children and the worrisome repeats it had to see. It cared for the children, and cast aside repeating anymore. It emptied itself of all the Light it could once more, flinging yet more power at the Darkness and its minions, feeling what felt like the shudder of asphyxiation from its reactors.

Even with the pain of knowing its momentary defeat, even with the pain of feeling a creation it helped with had damaged it, the Traveler gathered what Light and power it could. A searing pain erupted as its overtaxed body flung a portion of itself away, and dismantled a large shard of itself. From it came millions of tiny, thinking, individual pieces. As it died, it gifted the power of Light and giving it to them, trusting in the Light to sustain and bring humanity back from the brink.

It had hope-and it found itself not in want.

* * *

AN: Had to edit, forgot from years ago that formatting got lost at points in FF's copy and paste setup. Made some little, insignificant changes.


End file.
